


Arrangement

by g_thorn



Category: Amnesia: Justine - Fandom, Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Multi, POV Second Person, Period-Typical Homophobia, Threesome - F/M/M, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, not really though it's mostly for the purposes of dirty talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24905146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/g_thorn/pseuds/g_thorn
Summary: Justine wants to see Aloïs ruined. Aloïs will do anything for Justine. Basile is just here for the ride.
Relationships: Aloïs Racine/Basile Giroux, Justine Florbelle/Aloïs Racine, Justine Florbelle/Aloïs Racine/Basile Giroux, Justine Florbelle/Basile Giroux
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to tag it to avoid clogging up the tags for those searching for it specifically, but the dirty talk does include discussions of exhibitionism and sex work, if you find those things are not to your taste, or are triggering.

Basile is too rough, too coarse, but she likes to see you together, so your clothes fall to the floor as Basile unbuttons his trousers. You’d do anything for her. You think Basile is just looking for a hole to fuck.

“I want to see it,” she says, kissing you firmly. “I want to see you come undone beneath another man. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You’d do anything for her.

The preparation is nice; even with Basile watching. Her fingers are slick with oil as she fucks and stretches you, stroking your face with her other hand. She switches to one of her leather toys when she’s satisfied, and it’s already too much to handle. You whimper and turn your head to kiss her palm.  _ Good boy _ , she says, sucking on your ear ’til it’s blue, and you believe her. She lays you back against her thighs (so  _ soft _ ) when she’s done, her breasts heavy above you. Her laughter is bright as she plays with your chest and watches Basile begin to pull you apart.  _ He’s big _ , you think, blood pounding in your ears, but Justine would never hurt you.

He’s slow, and it feels like it will never end. You feel full up to your lungs when he finally fucks you, his hands calloused and strong as they press your thighs back against your chest. You didn’t know you could bend like that; it makes each thrust flash behind your eyes.

“Look how he fills you, Aloïs!” Her voice is fireworks in your ears. She strokes at your stomach, pressing down on the bulge of Basile’s cock. Basile grunts, and you feel the vibration to your very core.

“Justine. If you keep doing that, I’ll finish inside him.” Your body betrays you as your own member twitches at the thought.

“Oh, he can take it.” You don’t know if you can. “Can’t you, Aloïs?” 

You make a wordless sob and she rewards you with a smile. She kisses you again, and her lips are so, so soft.

“Such a shame we don’t have our Malo. Do you think you could do that, my Aloïs? Take two inside you at once?” She runs a nail over your length, barely touching; you whimper. Basile groans; you can feel his pulse inside you. You wonder if he would like that, taking you apart with someone else inside, presses made smooth by the slick of others. “If I had my way, all of Paris would have a taste of you. You’d be so full of them, after, just for me.”

“Justine,” Basile grunts, fucking into you so hard your eyes water. He’s close; his cheeks are flushed and he looks almost tender as she kisses him above you. His lips are smeared red with her paint. She smiles.

“Who are you fucking, Basile? Aloïs, or me?”

He snarls and looks down at you. You want to hide under his gaze, but Justine holds your arms above your head. 

(You could overpower her easily.)

(You never would.)

His beard is rough against your skin as he kisses you–you feel a wince of sympathy for the kisses you give Justine in the morning–teeth gnawing at the fullness of your lower lip. He’s gentle, somehow, gentler than you thought he’d be, gentler than he ever is with her. A hand strokes down your chest. Beneath the flavor of rum and cigarettes, he tastes like her. 

“I wonder if we could sell tickets to this,” she muses dreamily. “‘See the Virgin Sodomite Deflowered! One franc to peek, ten to touch!’ You would be well suited to the defiler, Basile.” 

“He wouldn’t be a virgin then, you fool,” Basile manages to retort, panting. You don’t know how he’s still speaking–you ran out of words long ago. 

“He’ll always act one.” She smiles down at you, wiping the tears from your cheek, even as Basile buries his face in your neck. His breath is hot against your skin. His pace is overwhelming, every thrust shaking the bed as you feel your legs hooked over his shoulders as he presses closer and closer. 

“Justine,” you sob. “Justine, please.”

“My Aloïs, be polite.” 

“Basile,” you choke out, unbidden from your lips. She releases your arms so you can lock your arms about his neck, card your fingers through his hair. 

“Aloïs!”

He bites you, then, bites and sucks in a way you know will be impossible to hide, and you are filled with warmth as you reach your own peak. You don’t know when Basile’s hands got to your cock, and in any right mind you’d complain, but you  _ can’t _ care as  _ she _ lowers her face to kiss you once more, muffling the sound of your shouts with her too-soft lips. 

Basile wastes no time in fixing his clothes. You think, vaguely, you hear him give Justine a curt goodbye, but your mind is floating as she holds you. There’s a cool, damp cloth against your flushed skin, stroking between your legs as Basile’s spend drips. You try not to think about it. It isn’t very hard; she’s singing something, soft, and you fall asleep.

You awake, panicking and apologetic sometime later. She looks up from her reading and smiles at you. Her body is still bare, and you are torn between averting your eyes and giving her your full attention.

“You did so well, little Aloïs. You deserved a rest. Basile can be such a strain on the body.” Her gaze flickers to the bruises at your hips. The bite mark on your neck twinges as you remember. 

“But, you didn’t–I mean to say, ah–”

She laughs, sliding a marker into place as she closes her book and places it aside. You note that the spine is unlabeled, but well-worn. You lean back for her, instinctually, and she takes her place astride your lap, her hands pinning your wrists to the sheets.

“Well, you’re just going to have to make it up to me, then, aren’t you?”

You nod. You would do anything. Anything for her.

She gives you that smile. The one you swear could blind you, one day.

“Good boy.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can't quite remember why or when I started writing this, but before I knew it it was roughly 3 pages long. Poor Aloïs. I like to think he and Basile might get along if they tried, though neither of them ever would, not with Justine in the picture. They're definitely compatible physically, to Aloïs's disdain.


End file.
